Night Run
by ForceMage56
Summary: She's running, trying to out-run her past. All because she didn't die like she was supposed to. Rated M for mild combat and lots of death contemplation. OC and Zevran short story from my second play through. Sorry for the short summary, the rest is in the authors note.


_A/N; This is my first fan fiction so please no flaming and constructive reviews people! This story has been in my head for a while now. My second DA:O character (Neria Surana) Romanced Alistair instead of Zevran and I thought about what would happen when the Crows caught up to him in between the end of DA:O and his cameo in DA2 if the Warden wasn't there to keep an eye on him. Also on what would happen to the Crows sent after him if he recognized that one of them wanted to die just as he did. This is what i came up with, and yes it's vague because it's based on Edgar Allen Poe's style (thank you school assignment)._

_All rights to their respective owners, Bioware can have the sandbox i'm just borrowing their toys._

* * *

I can't remember how long I've been running. If you wanted to know how long I've been running in this muck filled sewer: about 15 minutes. Really I've always been running, ever since I died. I still remember my last night among the living and how it ended, if you think death is quiet, peaceful, and painless you couldn't be more wrong. Death is the end of dying, a numbing chill in your bones that pulls what life is left in you. It leaves you and whatever consciousness you have is left in a helpless and terrified state knowing that your life is all but gone and you're about to die. I failed my contract and in the same instant forfeited my life; I was already dead the second I lost the battle. I lay bleeding out on the ground with a boot at my throat and a dagger just out of reach. I knew I would lose; I wanted it all to end. I waited for the knife of my target to come and end my suffering, to give me the peace I had always dreamed of. Instead he killed me, he walked away. I died the moment he refused to take my life.

I lay there barely able to breathe as my target turned and walked away, leaving me trapped in limbo as my blood continued to stain the floor, mixing with the blood of my fallen team mates whose corpses lay scattered around me. The light in the center of the room continued to turn, guiding ships home to port but my soul wasn't among them. To fail a contract was to dig your own grave for the hunter will become the hunted. I was already dead to my former comrades in arms and they had no intentions of leaving me in this undead state. The Crows would strike quickly and without mercy. My target knew this; it was why I was sent to kill him. He failed to kill a Ferelden Gray Warden and has been on the run ever since. Why he left me to the same fate when all I wanted was an end is a mystery I have yet to solve. One thing was certain; a peaceful death would have to wait for this one didn't know the meaning of the word.

I managed to pull myself into a ball, an island in a sea of blood, and probed the gash in my side. Numbing, although nonlethal, pain was all the response I needed. Drowning in my own lifeblood was one fate I refused to resign myself to. I may have wished to end my servitude but I refused to lose myself on my hands and knees, if the Void was so desperate to claim me I would go on my feet. I dragged myself across the hard sandstone, breath leaving my water logged lungs with every pull. When I reached the edge I stared down into an abyss of turning waves and icy currents. If I was already dead what did I have left to lose? I rolled into the abyss.

* * *

I awoke washed up the eastern shore of Antiva staring into the rising sun. The gash in my side had been bandaged and my daggers were sitting next to me along with a message written in the sand. **LIVE**. Live? Live out my death being hunted with no sign of a reprieve? The Maker has a grand sense of humor. I managed to stand amidst the pain and absorb were I had been left by my latest tormentor. My only escape from the rising sun, sure to reveal my resting place, was an old rusting sewer pipe. I did not wait-about to be slaughtered by some up and coming Crow who wished to take what remains of my life for nothing more than a gain in status. If they wanted me off this plane of existence they would have to work for it. I ran into the jagged mouth of the tunnel.

My reveries were interrupted by an unwelcome arrow that sent a burning line across my cheek. The sound of my second death arrived at my ears in the sounds of footsteps on rusted metal and of blades drawn. The living comes to end the dead. The fight begins the same way it must end, with my blood on my lover's blade. He attacks without remorse or mercy, the contract must be completed at any cost or he will be next. The instinct for survival rules above all else as we dance through the debris of civilization, whatever semblance of affection we had for each other long forgotten, courting death with every step. Every breath. Every clash of steal. Death moves to claim her latest consort as my dagger pierces his heart.

He collapsed at my feet, passing through the veil without a sound. My mind desperately attempts to make sense of the scene that lay before me. He had lost. My heart pulsed within my chest and his would never beat again. I don't understand, I have wished for nothing but oblivion for as long as I can remember and yet she has passed me by yet again removing a member from the realm of the living instead. Or did she? When he lived he carried out all contracts without hesitation. Without any other use or purpose, we all did, and now his body lay at my feet. To live for no other purpose than to kill, the death of the target and the next night's pleasure were our only concerns. Was that truly life? Was he ever alive? Was I?

"You are now." A voice said behind me.

* * *

I spin to find Zevran, my former target, leaning against the opening of a nearby juncture looking amused and smug. I realize that I had been musing aloud.

"You are not the only one who wanted to die only to find themselves truly alive after being sentenced to death by our former comrades." He said straightening up and turned to leave, to disappear around the next bend where I would be hard pressed to follow.

"I suggest you start living." He said over his shoulder as the shadows of the tunnel swallowed him whole.

Am I truly alive? Was his true intent to free me, to let me have a life? To save me just as The Warden, Neria Surana, had saved him? I think back on my past existence as a Crow, an assassin. Was that life? It never was, was it? I was nothing but a tool for my masters to use, to end lives for the wealthy and influential. Expendable. That's not life. For the past twelve hours I was sure I was dead but for the first time in my existence I've never felt more alive. They are the ones that are dead. As I look at the body of my former lover I have a stunning realization; no matter how many of them track me down, to corner me, or attempt to end me one thing will remain true. I will be the life among the dead.

I turn and run away from the death that had attempted to consume me. I feel the air in my lungs, the beat of my heart, and the pounding of my feet. I approach the edge of the metal maze and see light at the end of the tunnel. I can smell the ocean and see the waves lapping at the shore as I throw myself into empty space above the deep blue ocean that I once believed would become my tomb.

My name is Maya and I'm finally alive.


End file.
